


Roll in the Hay

by Little_Inkstone



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Peasant!Belle AU, Spinner!Rum AU, pre-ogre wars AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Inkstone/pseuds/Little_Inkstone
Summary: A young and cheerful spinner Rumplestiltskin is very happy with his life, so happy he drinks a little too much at the local Harvest Festival.





	1. Chapter 1

The smell of fresh straw filled the air as Rumplestiltskin began to wake up.  His mouth felt dry as sand from the drink he’d indulged in from the Harvest Festival the night before, and his mind was clouded.  He blinked at a ray of light shone through the roof and he frowned and groaned, when had there been a hole in his thatch?  Rumple squeezed his eyes shut, his head didn’t really hurt, there was only a very slight ache behind his eyes, but the light hadn’t helped.

He shifted and realized belatedly that he was lying on a burlap cloth spread over a large bed of straw naked as the day he was born.  As he moved someone soft and warm shifted beside him, letting out a gentle sigh, their unclothed body pressing closer to him. That explained the weight on his chest, but not why he wasn’t in his own bed.  Resting his head back down he tried to open his eyes again, this time with more success.  As his vision cleared he realized he recognized the barn he was laying in.  It was small and not often used in the winter since it was too far from the town.  He looked down at his chest, noticing the nest of brunette curls tucked against him and he smiled.

Closing his eyes he leaned back and tried to remember what had happened the night before. What had led to him lying in a mound of straw with his wife?

It had been the yearly bonfire to celebrate the town’s rich harvest.  Everyone had been in good spirits and the wine and ale had been flowing freely.  Rumplestiltskin had imbibed in more than a few cups of the sweet drinks.  Soon his head had begun to swim but that had just added to the joy he was feeling.  It had been a good year, five lambs had been born and all of them had survived and were healthy enough to bear the winter.  He’d been married during the height of summer and so far he and Milah had been happy enough; they were even talking of children.  It had been a time for celebrating and he had.  That still didn’t answer the questions making their way through his sluggish mind.  What happened?  Why was he here and not home?

The last thing he really remembered was dancing with Belle.

She and her father had come to town a month before he was set to marry Milah and they had become fast friends.  Belle spent more time at his small stall then she did at her father’s during market day and he had sat enraptured as she told him of the latest book she was reading. Her smile was brighter than the sun and her eyes put the sky to shame.  He couldn’t understand why no one had been able to court her yet.  Belle was still young, a decade or so younger than his thirty summers, but still a few years past the point that was considered expected for her to marry.  Rumple cherished his friendship with Belle and wanted nothing but her happiness.  He knew she would be able to take care of herself without a husband, but he also knew that someone so loving should have a companion to brighten her days and warm her nights.  Just as he had with Milah.

Something had changed after his wedding a month after they met.  Belle had distanced herself from him and it had been the only thing to mar his happiness.  Without Belle’s smile the world felt gray and cold, without her presence during market day the hours dragged by blandly.  When she’d taken his hands to dance around the fire the night before he had thought his face would split from his smile and his heart would beat out of his chest. He’d missed her.  She was as drunk and giddy as he had been; both of them were deep in their cups as they’d spun around each other.

A memory tickled the back of his mind as he lay in the straw.  She’d led him away from the fire into the fields and he had willing followed her.  The rest of the night was a confused blur.  He remembered telling someone with blue eyes and brown curls he loved them, followed by soft kisses and roaming hands.  They’d stumbled along in the dark until they’d found that barn, but why not go home?  Why drag Milah out into the fields?  Rumple raised his free hand and massaged the bridge of his nose in confusion.  When had he and Belle parted ways?  The last time he remembered seeing his wife playing festival games.

He felt as if he were on the cusp of realizing something very important when the body shifted beside him and let out a yawn.  He opened his eyes and looked down just as she looked up.  They wore twin expressions of surprise as they gazed at each other.

“It wasn’t a dream.” Belle whispered a smile pulling at her lips as she looked at him, hungry to take in every detail.  Her hand reached up to cup his cheek and he was speechless.

As Rumple stared into Belle’s beautiful blue eyes the events of the night before came rushing back in startling clarity.  She’d pulled him into the fields and they’d giggled like fiends as they’d almost tripped and fell more than once.  Belle had ended up in his arms, much like now, and as he’d looked down at her he had let fly a truth he had kept trapped in his chest like caged bird for too long.  _I love you_.  She had smiled and suddenly it was like the sun had come out.  Belle had kissed him then and they had found their way to the barn. They’d begun to undress each other and when he’d stopped to ask if she was sure Belle had told him she wanted him to be her first.  He’d tried to step back at that but she had coaxed him back with sweet touches and even sweeter words.

Shame filled Rumple as he realized he had deflowered his dearest friend.  Even if she hadn’t been a maiden he would still be a cad for sleeping with her when he was bound to someone else.  Belle was finer then a high born lady.  She deserved her first time to be romantic and perfect in a bed made of soft furs with her true love, not a quick roll in a dusty barn on itchy pointy straw.

“I’m sorry, Belle.” He finally said, his voice hoarse.

She shook her head and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.  “Don’t be, I’m not.”

He looked away and then back at her timidly, his cheeks heating from her kiss, so freely given along with the feel of her still naked body pressed to his.  It would be lie to say he hadn’t sometimes dreamed of Belle in his arms, or even let his mind wander to the idea when he was alone in the fields.  Rumple believed he would never act on those thoughts.  He wanted to be loyal to Milah and worthy of Belle’s friendship, but now here he was.

Bile rose to the back of his throat and his eyes began to fill with tears.  He wasn’t better than his father had been, he was worse. His face crumpled and he began to sob. Belle pulled him to her chest and wrapped her arms around him as he clung to her.  Rumple knew he was weak, even now he didn’t fully regret being allowed to hold Belle.  Her touches were branded into his skin and the sounds of her moans burned into his mind. She had given him a gift, a gift he would prize for the rest of his life.  Soothingly she ran her hands though his hair until he was done.  The kisses she peppered along his cheeks were a benediction and a curse as he tried to take deep breathes to calm himself. Finally he calmed down and he took a shuddering breath.  Carefully he rolled away from her so they were no longer touching.

“We need to get back home.”  He told her, breaking the silence that had filled the barn.

The sun coming through the roof showed that it was mid-morning.  No doubt everyone would still be sleeping off all the drinking they’d done but it would still be bad if it was noticed that both he and Belle were missing.  Her smile faltered but she nodded, her hand reaching out and then pulling back at the last moment before she touched him.

“I know.”

Rumple looked away as she slid out of their makeshift bed and pulled her simple blue dress on.  In the meantime he pulled on his shirt and pants.  He looked around for his warm cloak, blushing when he realized it had served as their blanket.  Picking it up he stiffened when he realized it carried the perfume of Belle’s hair and something else he knew was pure sex.  He’d need to wash it before he returned to his cabin if he didn’t want anyone to know what he and Belle had done.  And no one could  _ever_  know.  Belle’s reputation would be ruined; his didn’t matter, it was already tarnished, but his heart couldn’t bare it if she had to suffer the scorn he had grown up with. Of course his infidelity would also hurt Milah, he didn’t want that either.

Once they were closer to decent then they had been when they’d woken up, Rumple had trouble looking at her.  He ruined everything he touched and he ruined his friendship with Belle too.  There was no possible way she would ever want to see him again.  The best thing in his life would walk out of that barn door and never look at him again. He felt tears come to his eyes again and he covered his face so he wouldn’t shame himself further in front of Belle.  Instead a warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around him, gently Belle turned him to face her and he fought to keep his chin from wobbling.

“Belle, this shouldn’t have happened, I’m so sorry.”  He murmured as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I know, I know,” She repeated.  “I just want to hold on for a little longer.”

Belle’s embrace was like the song of a siren that sailors warned about at sea.  Rumple knew this would only lead to more self-hatred, and it took everything he had in him to pull away, but it was the right thing to do.

“I can’t, Belle, I’m married.”  He reminded her, gently pushing her away.

She sighed and nodded.  “I know, I’m sorry, you must hate me now.”

Rumple gently cupped her cheek as she looked at him with shining eyes filled with sorrow. “No, Belle, I could never hate you. You’re my most precious friend. Please,”  He begged.  “Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, we never have to speak of it again.”

“Never speak of it again?”  She repeated and he nodded, certainly that would be for the best, Belle couldn’t possibly have wanted to sleep with him if they had been sober.  “Yes, I guess that would be for the best.”

He let out a relieved sigh as she agreed.  Maybe he could salvage their friendship after all.  Certainly Belle would be happy not to speak of this day, and if she knew he was willing to pretend this was all a bad dream then maybe she’d stay his friend. They’d already been strained by his wedding; if he didn’t fix this it could break them totally.  Hopefully he could salvage what little connection he still had with her.  Rumple knew he couldn’t lose her; if he did he’d be nothing but dust.


	2. Chapter 2

Rumple managed to get home without anyone seeing him.  As he expected most everyone was still in bed sleeping off the late night revelling they’d all taken part in.  He slipped into his home, his stomach squirming uneasily when the door squeaked on it’s hinges.  Rumple held his breath and then let out a relieved sigh when the house remained silent.  Carefully he walked further into the hut, passing Milah as she lightly snored alone in their bed.  Guilt lanced his heart and he looked away from his wife in their marriage bed.

He would need to come up with a believable reason why he hadn’t come home the night before.  But before he could focus on any of that he needed to clear away any sign of his depravity.  With a heart that felt like it would beat out of his breast he grabbed a thin cotton shirt and old leather pants he usually wore in the heat of summer and a bar of soap.  Rumple slipped back out of his cottage, the weight of what he had done too much for him to even think about.

The water in the in the washing stream was freezing, but Rumple thought of the suffering as a type of penance as he shivered.  He stripped and washed his skin harshly with the bar of soap, trying to remove any traces of the night spent in the arms of another woman.  The worst part was that she wasn’t just another woman, it wasn’t just anyone; it was Belle.  Perfect, beautiful, wonderful, kind Belle.

Pushing the thought away he went back to scrubbing his body until his skin was red.  It was no use; there was one mark that no amount of soap would be able to remove.  On his chest above his heart was a dark mark left by her lips.  There would be no explaining it away; he would have to make sure to keep his shirt fully laced up until it faded away.  He moved on to scrub his cloak, pants and shirt until they were spotless and smelt of nothing but the crude soap and river water.  His arms ached by the time he was done, but Rumple figured that was just a sign he had done his best.

When he returned to his cottage Milah had woken up.  He tried to mumble his excuse to her about passing out in the field and waking up covered in mud but she hushed him and held her head in pain.  Rumple closed his mouth and set about making her tea, both of them settling into their normal routine.  He walked on eggshells for a week, terrified at any moment Milah would look at him and know what he’d done.  Rumple began to use the privacy screen to change to hide the bruise on his chest and whenever they crawled into bed he would pretend to be too tired from a long day at work for anything more than sleep.

As the sign of Belle’s lips on his skin faded so too did his fear of being found out; along with a growing regret – that he refused to acknowledge – that it wasn’t a permanent brand.  Everything with Milah was still fine, the world hadn’t ended and she hadn’t thrown him out.  He finally felt as if he could breathe again.

The rest of the month seemed to prove that everything would alright.  On market day Belle came to buy some wool and although their conversation was awkward and stilted he was still glad she had come.  She brought him a small purple bloom from her father’s stall and he tucked it behind his ear so it wouldn’t get lost.  They shared a tight smile as she took her wool and handed him her copper coins.  Their hands brushed, a spark of heat and electricity shooting up his arm as they did so and his breath caught in his throat.  Belle’s cheeks turned a soft pink at their touch.  But before he could see if her blush bloomed further she turned on her heel and ran back to where her father was selling flowers and vegetables from his gardens along with his services as a blacksmith.

Against his will his eyes followed her for as long as they could, his feet itching to chase after her.  He ripped his eyes away and focused on his stall, twisting a piece of twine between his fingers to distract himself.  Belle didn’t need some pathetic spinner lusting after her because of one mistake they’d made, and Milah didn’t deserve to be shackled to a man with a wandering eye.  He was going to be better than his father; he would not end up like that cowardly drunkard.  His father’s shame was a part of him, it always would be, but he could choose to be better, his aunties had raised him to be so and he wouldn’t let them or himself down.  With that promise in mind Rumple threw himself into his marriage and taking care of his sheep.  Not long after market day Milah came down with a bad cold.  When he wasn’t in the fields he was her bedside giving her tea and dabbing at her forehead.  To keep from getting sick himself he spent his nights on the floor by the hearth with a spare blanket.  It left him feeling achy and sore but he wanted his wife to be comfortable.

One morning a month after the Harvest Festival he found himself out on a cold morning, the grass under his boots crunching with the thick layer of frost that blanketed everything.  He stretched out his cramped muscles and yawned, his breath turning into a thick cloud of mist.  Rumple tiredly led the sheep into the field, watching them as they huddled together for warmth.  He’d trimmed them for the last time of the season not too long ago and they still seemed a little pathetic with only their half grown coats.  Soon they would be woollier and warm, so long as there wasn’t an early snow their winter coats would come in before they needed them.  Patting the side of one of the more daring sheep to wander from the herd he climbed on top of a boulder that made a good lookout perch and settled in for the day.

Rumple watched as the sun crept slowly across the sky, it’s bright rays of light no match for the dower fog that had settled over the rolling fields.  From said fog he saw the figure of a woman appear and he tightened his hold on his crook.  Every story he’d ever heard of dark fairies whisking poor souls away filled his mind and he looked around to make sure his sheep were safe.  Rumple turned back to the woman and he let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders sagging, as he realized he knew who was approaching him.  He stepped down from his perch and waited for her to come to him.  As she drew nearer he began to grow nervous.  Why would Belle want to see him so early in the day?  They were all alone in the field and the curtain of mist was too private for his taste.  The last time they’d been alone he hadn’t kept his hands to himself, it didn’t matter that he was drunk; it was still him that had slept with her.

Soon they were face to face.  He watched Belle lick her lips nervously, his eyes slipping down to them without his permission.  Twisting his staff in his hand anxiously he tried to force himself to say something, but his tongue was thick and heavy in his mouth and his throat was closing up.  If he didn’t know better he would think he was having a pollen attack like one of the boys he’d grown up with had been susceptible to.  The only way he knew he wasn’t was because of how hard he was breathing.  His heart began to race as Belle began to nibble on her lower lip.  Rumple couldn’t stand the silence between them; they had never had trouble speaking to each other before the Harvest Festival.  Now they were painfully awkward around each other.

“Hey.”  He finally managed.

“Hey.”  She replied, a small smile beginning to pull at her lips before it fell away.

“I-is something wrong?”  Rumple asked worriedly.

“Yes, no, I don’t know.”  Belle said, her words tripping over each other as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Reaching out he gently grasped her shoulder.  “If you need help Belle I’ll do anything I can.”

“I know you would.”  Belle said as she tried to smile again, but instead her eyes filled with tears and she was suddenly pressed against him as she cried.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”  He whispered to her as he hugged her back dropping his staff so one of his hands could rub her back.

“Rumple…”  She whimpered against his chest, her words catching in her throat.

“Tell me what’s wrong.  I’ll make it all better.”  Rumple promised even though he knew there were a great many things that he couldn’t actually fix for her.  It didn’t matter; he would give Belle the moon if she asked for it.

“I’m pregnant!”  Belle sobbed.


	3. Chapter 3

For a long terrible moment Rumple couldn’t breathe.  Belle’s words rattled around in his mind as she clung to him, her tears soaking into his thick wool shirt.  Pregnant.  Belle was Pregnant, and it was his child.  In a different world this would be the happiest day of his life.  For a moment his mind wandered to that place, a life where Belle was his wife and she coming into the fields to share the wonderful news.  He’d pick her up and spin her around and then they’d repeat the act that had led to this news.  This was not the world he was living in though.  Belle wasn’t his wife, could never be.  Instead he was someone else’s husband and Belle was a young unmarried woman.

How would she be able to take care of their baby alone?  How was he going to be able to provide for her _and_ any children Milah had?

Rumple’s head began to swim.  To keep Belle from getting pulled down with him he untangled himself from her tight grip and fell hard on his arse.  Belle let out a worried sound and fell to her knees beside him as he tried to keep from emptying the contents of his stomach.  Distantly he could hear her asking him if he was alright, but he waved her off and focused on breathing.  It had only been a month and from what he knew that was too early to know for sure.  If Belle was mistaken it would save them both.  At the same time the idea of there being no new life growing in her belly made him feel oddly bereft.  Having a child with her would be a disaster, but believing there was one and then discovering there wasn’t hurt as well.

“H-how do you know for sure?”  He finally managed.

“I wasn’t feeling well.”  Belle said, her voice thick and choked.  “I thought it might be the same fever going around the village, so I went to the hedge witch.”

He nodded numbly at her words.  “Then there’s no uncertainty.”

“I’m sorry, Rumple.”  Belle whispered.

“Don’t say that.”  He said, turning to look at her and shaking his head vehemently.  “We did this together, don’t apologize.”

Belle nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees as she bit her lower lip.

They sat in silence for a long moment.  One of the lambs wandered over to them and Rumple absentmindedly ran his hand through it’s soft sheared wool.  Life would be easier if he was a sheep, he’d have nothing to worry about except the stray wolf, but that’s what his shepherd would be for.  But he wasn’t a sheep, he was a man; a man that had made a mistake and slept with a woman that wasn’t his wife.  Belle deserved so much better than this, better than him.  If only he had had a little less to drink that night, he could have kept his head.

This was becoming all so overwhelming he almost couldn’t stand it.  What was he supposed to do?  How could he make this better?  Those questions along with many more crowded his mind until he couldn’t think straight.  Soon the self-hatred followed and he was left feeling like it would be better if he had never been born.  It wasn’t a feeling he was a stranger to, but it was the first time since he met Belle that it had come back to him.  Life had been wonderful since he’d met her and now Belle was suffering because she had befriended him.

“I don’t know what to do.”  Belle admitted softly.

“Neither do I.”  Rumple replied as he began to braid a stray piece of grass.

The awkwardness between them was almost too much to bear.  Before they had been able to talk about anything and everything, there had almost never been a moment of silence between them.  Now they could hardly look at each other.  Rumple hated it; he hated not being able to reach out to her.  He stood suddenly, taking her and the lamb beside him by surprise.  He couldn’t stand this so he wasn’t going to.  Reaching out he took Belle’s hands and pulled her up.  She went willingly but her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly open.  A moment of madness had taken hold of him, and he wasn’t going to fight it.

“Let’s run away.”  He said as he held her hands.  “Let’s just leave and start over together somewhere else.”

Belle’s eyes lit up like he had offered her the sun and the moon, and then her smile fell and she reached out and cupped his cheek.

“That’s sweet of you, but we both know that we can’t.”  Belle said, the tone in her voice making his chest ache.

“Then let me take care of you.”  He begged, cradling her hand on his cheek with his.  “Let me provide for you and our baby.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”  Belle whispered, her eyes beginning to shine with more tears.  “The secret would destroy both of us.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering; let me take care of you both.”  He said, his lower chin beginning to wobble.  “Belle, please, I won’t force my attentions on you, but let me be a part of this child’s life.”

“That’s the thing, I want your attentions, Rumple, but I can’t have them.”  She replied.  Then she took a deep breath and smiled softly at him.  “But I won’t keep this baby from you.”

“Then you’ll let me help you?”  He asked breathlessly.  Silver and gold would be a poor substitute for a father, but if that was all his could give to his child then his baby would never want for anything.  He would make sure of it.

“Yes, I won’t ask for anything, but I’ll take what you’re willing to give.”  Belle said.

Carefully Rumple reached out and pressed a hand to her stomach.  “They’ll want for nothing.”  He said fondly.  “Neither of you will.”

Belle stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself.  “You’re a good man, Rumple.”

She licked her lips as if she wanted to say more but instead she bobbed her head and then turned on her heel and fled.  He watched her go, feeling as if he’d missed something very important, but not sure what.  Shaking his head he turned back to his flock and began to plan out how he would provide for both his wife and his upcoming child.  Rumple had enough stored away to keep himself and Milah comfortable for several seasons, and he was making enough from his spinning that they wanted for nothing.  Babies were expensive, but he could make a lot of the clothes Belle would need for their child and a few spare coppers wouldn’t be missed here or there.  He sighed; this was all assuming that her parents wouldn’t kick her out of his home when they discovered she was with child.  Maurice the blacksmith his wife Colette seemed like kind people, Belle only had nice things to say about them, but they might not be happy about becoming grandparents without first being in-laws.

The rest of the day crawled by at an achingly slow pace.  The sheep were happy as they frolicked without a care and at sunset Rumple herded them back to his small barn where they would be safe and warm during the night.  Not for the first time he wished he could be as carefree as his herd but no amount of wishing would make it so.  Quietly he entered his cabin so as not to wake Milah.  She was still in bed, wrapped up tightly like she had been when he’d left but he could tell that she had been up during the day from the way things had been moved around and logs had been added to the hearth.  He sat at her side and gently touched a hand to her forehead; she was still warm, but not burning up anymore.  Milah let out a groan and turned away from him.

“Killian.”  She whimpered.

Rumple’s brow furrowed at the word that slipped from his wife’s lips.  What, or who, was Killian?


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Milah was feeling better Rumple had pushed the name she had said to the back of his mind.  Worries about Belle and the future clouded out any other thoughts.  He spun long into the night to make more wool and thread to sell on market day.  And when he was in the fields watching his sheep began working on a blanket soft enough to swaddle his first born.

Having a child with someone that wasn’t his wife was a disaster, but at the same time Rumple couldn’t help but have a spark of excitement for the baby that would soon join the world.  During the cold days of late autumn he wondered what they’d be like; would it be a girl, or maybe a son?  Would they look like Belle?  Beautiful and perfect?  Or would their features be marred by his crooked nose and gaunt body?  He hoped the looked like Belle; for more than one reason he was willing to admit.

Rumple closed his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face to clear his mind.  It was market day again and he needed to keep his mind on his stall, it had snowed two days ago.  Even though it had already melted he knew it wouldn’t be long until the cold set in fully and everything was covered in a thick blanket of white.  He needed enough coin for the winter to come, now more than ever.

There was a commotion in the village that day.  Strangers in armour and on horseback had ridden into town late the night before.  Everyone wanted to know who they were, and the innkeeper was happy enough to gossip about the guests he was hosting.  They were soldiers of the local Duke that owned the lands they farmed and tended, there taxes where paid to him, and it seemed that he was looking for more soldiers.  The front of the ogre’s war was a far off distant thought, so much so that news about what was happening was scarce at best, and none existent at worst.  It was easy to forget that a war was even going on their village was so safe.

He looked up from sorting his spools of string when a shadow blocked out his light.  His usual salesmen smile freezing in place when he realized it was Belle standing in front of him.  Rumple felt his throat dry as he looked at her, it had been a few days since they’d last seen each other and somehow she managed to take his breath away every time he saw her.  She had a warm shawl wrapped around herself and he felt his heart do an odd flip when he realized it was something he’d sold to her when she’d first come the village.  The blue made her eyes shine and the rose of her cheeks glow.

“H-hey.”  Rumple managed.

“Hey.”  Belle replied.

They stared at each other for another long moment and then he ducked his head to hide the blush that was burning his cheeks.  Without his permission the image of her beneath him moaning his name flashed through his mind.

“Can I get you anything?”  He squeaked out, trying to look busy as he re-sorted his goods.

“ _You_.”  Rumple almost swallowed his tongue at her words.  “You dropped this.”  Belle continued.

“Oh, ah, thank you, Belle.”  He said as she handed him a spool of golden thread.

The tips of their fingers brushed and a shock of heat traveled through him.  Rumple couldn’t help but wonder if Belle felt it too

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t lose any string, I-I guess I’ll go now.”  Belle ducked her head and wrapped her cloak around her tighter.  “I’ll see you later, Rumple.”

“Belle…”  He stood suddenly, his hand reaching out as she turned away.

“Yes?”  Belle asked breathlessly as she turned back around.

“I-ah… thank you.”  Rumple finished lamely.

“Oh, yes, okay, you’re welcome.”  She said, and then turned and ran off.

Rumple’s shoulders sagged and let out an annoyed whine at the back of his throat.  Why was it that he ruined everything he touched?

The rest of the day went by in one long blur.  With the threat of more snow he sold several skeins of yarn and blankets to those that had left their winter preparations for too long.  That was along with his normal amount of thread and at the end his coin purse was heavy with copper and even some silver.  With this he would have enough to provide for the colder months, if it were just himself and Milah.  His stomach twisted with worry as he sat at his stall and counted what he’d made.  It was a good amount, one of the best for that year, but it wasn’t for Belle and their child.  They had a little over half a year before their baby joined the world, but in that time she’d need good food to stay strong and a crib along with new clothes as her belly grew.

His calculations were interrupted when a hand slammed down on his wooden stand.  Rumple looked up, a man was standing there; he was dressed in dark armour with a sword at his hip.  It was one of the soldiers that had come to town.

“The Duke requires the service of all men able to hold a blade.”  He said without preamble.  Rumple gaped at him, his mind was totally blank.  “Did you hear me, spinner?  You’ve been drafted, this isn’t optional.”

Rumple nodded mutely and the soldier shoved the paper into his hands and then left him without another word.  Looking down at the paper his eyes scanned across the instructions and noble seals.  He couldn’t go fight, he had responsibilities, Milah didn’t know how to shepherd the sheep and there wasn’t enough time for him to get a pup and train it to help her.  And what about Belle?  She _needed_ him.  He couldn’t leave her and their baby.  At the same time his chest began to swell with a feeling he wasn’t used to.  Pride.  This was his chance to move out of his father’s shadow once and for all.  The people of his village liked and respected him now, but he knew there was still that wonder if he was the same as his sire.  This way there would be no doubt that he was nothing like Malcolm.

The two sides of himself warred as his eyes greedily scanned the decree.  Then he saw it, there, in such large scrawl that he was surprised he’d missed it before.

_Service comes with a pension for all those men that survive and a chest of gold for the families of soldiers that bravely give their lives._

With trembling hands Rumple traced the word pension.  He’d be able to take care of his child and Milah with a pension and his spinning.  His family would want for nothing and Belle would be taken care of as well.  A smile pulled at his lips as he kept reading the words over and over again.  His service would be rewarded while he fought and after he was done the Duke would take care of him.  Not many rumours reached their village from the front, but everyone had heard of the treasure the ogres hoarded.  They had caves filled with mountains of gold and jewels, perhaps if he’d even be able to line his pockets while they fought, there was supposed to be so much gold that the Duke wouldn’t miss it.

Rumple closed his stall and grabbed his pouch filled with copper.  Soon he wouldn’t need to worry about having enough to provide.  He would find glory in war and kill two birds with one stone.  No one would ever think of his father again when they saw him, instead they’d see an ogre slayer, and when he looked in the mirror he was see a man worthy of Belle.


	5. Chapter 5

On the morning Rumple, and the rest of the men that had been drafted, were set to leave, his hands were shaking from nerves.  He wanted to say it was just the cold, a thin layer of snow had fallen that refused to melt, and now fires needed to be tended all night to keep the chill at bay, but Rumple knew better.  A mixture of excitement and fear coiled in the pit of his stomach at the cart was readied and the knight that would be leading them patted his horse’s flank.  In a little under an hour they’d be on their way and he wouldn’t be seeing his sleepy village for several months.  He let his eyes wander across the fields and the thatched roofs; in the distance he could see the fluffy shapes of his sheep as they grazed.

For a copper a month his neighbour’s second son would be tending them for Milah during the day.  It was a bit of an indulgence, one he wasn’t very comfortable with.  But Milah had begged him to hire someone to help while he was gone, and he had relented.  His wife wasn’t very fond of the sheep that kept them fed, she liked their wool well enough, but the animals themselves she found distasteful.  The money he was spending should have gone towards Belle, he had already given her as much as he could and finished the blanket for their child, but it wasn’t enough.  Nothing he could do for her would ever be enough.

Belle was starting to show now; it had been three months since they’re discretion and her stomach was taking on a gentle curve.  Rumple itched to press his hand there and tell her how happy was, despite everything else, but he couldn’t.  No one knew yet, except Belle’s family, and even they didn’t know he was the father.  Although he was sure her parents suspected, given the dirty looks Maurice now shot at him and the shrewd narrowing of Colette’s eyes whenever they crossed paths.  Belle hadn’t been avoiding him, but she hadn’t been seeking him out either and he felt her absence in his life keenly.  If he could he’d turn back the sun and the moon just to keep from ruining their friendship.  He would pay any price to see her smile fully and without reserve again.

Rumple sighed, his breath coming out in a thick mist as he tried to settle his nerves.  He pushed the thoughts clouding his mind away and looked around at the other men getting ready to leave.  Many of them were saying goodbye to their loved ones; wives were kissing husbands, children were hugging their fathers, and parents were clinging to their sons.  No one was there for him.  Milah had said she couldn’t watch him leave, so instead she’d said goodbye in their hut.  A few of the villagers had wished him well while he walked through town and some of the older women that had known his aunts had given him protection charms.  Rumple appreciated the gestures and had been grateful that he was treated like any other young man going off to fight; but none of them had been who he’d really wanted to see that morning.

Belle wouldn’t come to see him, he knew that, but he had still hoped.

Just as he was getting ready to turn away from the road and get on the cart he saw a flash of blue skirts running up the hill.  Rumple’s heart flipped oddly and before he knew what he was doing his feet had begun to move.  His arms wrapped around Belle as she none too gently slammed into him, knocking the wind from him, but he didn’t care.  They were far enough away from everyone else that they had their privacy, but no one was paying them any mind as it was.  Belle buried her face against his neck and he closed his eyes and took a deep lungful of her sweet flowery scent.  Even at the cusp of winter Belle managed to smell like spring.

“I was afraid I’d missed you.”  She told him as she pulled back.  “I would have been here sooner, but…”  Belle blushed in embarrassment and pressed her hand to her stomach.  “I’ve been having trouble with breakfast lately.”

Rumple let out a soft sound of worry and carefully rested his hand on belly.  “Be good for your Mama now.”  He admonished.  “Papa will be back soon and he wants to hear that you’ve behaved.”

Belle’s shuddering gasp made him look up to her eyes and he removed his hand afraid he offended her.  Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears and he felt panic begin to rise in his chest.  He wanted to reach out to her, but at the same time was too scared to touch her; which left his hands fluttering uselessly in the air around her.  Rumple’s jaw worked as he tried to figure out what to say to her, but nothing would get past the knot in his throat.  Belle blinked back her tears and when he reached for her again she took his hands in hers.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you, I was just shocked hearing you use those words.”  She told him.

“I’m sorry Belle; I won’t again, not if it upsets you.”  Rumple replied immediately.  The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

“No,”  Belle shook her head.  “It didn’t upset me, I liked it.”  Her smile was genuine even as her eyes grew bright with more unshed tears.  “And they’re true.  I am going to be a Mama; you’re a Papa, even if neither of us planned this.”

He nodded.  “Yes, we are.”

This was why he was going to go fight; the two reasons were standing before him as he held Belle’s hand and moved the other to touch her belly again where his child was growing.  He would go and make them proud and then with the money he earned they wouldn’t want for anything.  Maybe if he came back a war hero he could even claim his child as his.  If he earned enough good will from the villagers they might be willing to overlook the mistake he and Belle had made, certainly their child shouldn’t be blamed for it.  No doubt Milah wouldn’t be happy, but maybe if he was able to explain and provide a good life for her she would forgive him.  The future of his family was riding on the sword strapped to his waist and the armour on his back, he wouldn’t disappoint them.

For a few moments longer he and Belle spoke.  There were so many things they needed to say, but instead their conversation remained light and careful.  It was like in the beginning when they were just starting to get to know each other.  Instead of talking about how the town would react when they discovered Belle was pregnant out of wedlock, or what Rumple might see in the battlefield, they talked about the book Belle had just finished.  On the side of the road out of town, on a fallen log, Belle and Rumple held hands as they enjoyed an hour of peace.  It was as if nothing had changed at all.  Soon though the cart was ready and the men were being called and he had to leave her.

Rumple stood and helped her up, giving her one last hug before he left.  Belle dithered for a moment, and he stopped, watching her, greedily taking in everything about her.  He would miss a lot of things while he was gone, and Belle would be at the very top of the list, finally Belle spoke.

“Come back safe.”  She whispered, reaching out to cup his face.  “Come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you.”  Rumple managed, fresh worry squeezing around his heart.  He couldn’t promise her he would be safe, but he had no intention of dying.  No matter what he had to do he would return and see her again and their child.

The call for the men to begin to march rang out again and he turned to leave, but at the last minute he was pulled back by Belle.  She held each side of his face and pressed a firm and desperate kiss to his lips.  His eyes widened in shock but before he could think to do anything it was over.  Belle’s cheeks were red as she ducked her head shyly.

“I’m sorry, I just…”  She bit her lower lip and then looked back up at him.  “I love you.”  Belle said.

With those words she turned on her heel and began to run back towards the village.  Everything in Rumple cried out to follow her, but he knew he couldn’t.  The troop would be leaving and he needed to go if he were to have any hope of providing a future for his family.  Still, he stood there for a moment longer, reaching up to press the tips of his fingers to his lips as he watched her retreating form until she was gone.  Something occurred to him in that moment, so clear and obvious that only a fool like himself couldn’t have seen it before.  Rumple had even said it once already.  This time there was no drink clouding his mind; no mistaking what was happening or being able to pretend he was talking to someone else.  The truth was as clear as the morning sun making its way across the sky.

“I love you too.”


	6. Chapter 6

Rumple wasn’t a stranger to hard work; he’d had to fight his whole life to make anything of himself and it had paid off.  None of that had prepared him for what it would be like to be a soldier in the Duke’s army.  His arms ached from learning how to swing a sword without hurting himself or anyone else, his feet burned from how long he was forced to march, and his back felt as if it was snapped in half from the heavy gear he had to carry. At night when he was finally able to rest he fell into bed and as soon as his eyes were closed he was dead to the world.  The exhaustion didn’t leave much room for introspection or worrying about the future.

Mostly Rumple missed his bed and was lonely for Belle, but soon those thoughts would be swept away by pain or sleep.

Finally a month after he had marched away from his home and the mother of his child, training was done.  They had received their first orders and would be going into battle the next morning.  Something he and the other soldiers were eager for.  Over the month he had become friends with the other men in his battalion.  They were all like him, poor farmers and tradesmen from villages that dotted the valley around his village.  None of them knew about his father’s reputation and that had made it easier for him to relax around them.  Camaraderie was an odd thing for the bashful spinner but he began to flourish like a flower in sunlight.  Once Belle had been his only friend, now he had many, but still, his heart yearned to see her again.

Soon he would, he was sure of it, and when he did he would be returning with gold enough to take care of her.  Rumple wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he did come back with his fortune.  He was married to Milah and nothing could break that bond, nothing but death or an annulment by the church.  The first was something he’d never wish for Milah, they’d gotten along well enough before he fell in love, it wasn’t her fault he was meant to be with Belle.  The second was the better option, but it required both of them to agree, and knowing Milah she might not want to let him go, especially if he came back with a chest of gold like he was hoping he’d be able to.

Taking a swig of the bitter drink from the flask he’d been given he walked away from the tent where the soldiers and knights were carousing.  It was tradition before big battles, the commander had told them.  There was music and laughter and from somewhere women had come to temp the men that weren’t married, and even some that were.  Rumple enjoyed spending time with his friends, but the crowed was too much and the sounds had become too loud.  Instead he leaned against a covered cart and let his eyes slip closed as he stood in the snow.  The party made him miss his village all the more.  If he were at home he’d be sitting by the fire, spinning or knitting with nothing but the sounds of the night and the crackle of the flame in the hearth.

A smile pulled at his lips at he let himself get lost in the thought.  In his mind’s eye he could see himself at he spun, it was cold outside but in his hut it was warm, and he wasn’t alone.  Belle was sitting in her own chair, gently rocking their babes crib as she enjoyed one of her books.  She’d look up and smile at him and he’d smile at her, and life would be perfect.

“Psst.”  The dream was broken by a strange sound and Rumple opened his eyes and looked around.  “You there, soldier.”  The same voice said.

“Whose there?”  Rumple asked warily, his hand going to the sword on his hip.

“Under the canvas.”  The voice replied.

Turning Rumple eyed the cart suspiciously.  It had been brought into camp earlier in the day, apparently it was a prisoner.  A man that had tried to run he had been told.  Rubbing his thumb and forefinger together he grabbed the thick cloth and pushed it back, revealing a man in the cage.  He was older than most of the soldiers with wild hair and graying stubble on his cheeks and chin.

“What do you want?”  Rumple tried to sneer, in a poor attempt to copy the arrogance of some of the knights.

“A drink of water, if you could?  I’m thirsty; I haven’t had anything to drink in longer than I can remember.”  The man replied pitifully.

Against his will Rumple’s face softened as he looked at the poor man.  There was no harm in giving him water, even if he was a deserter.  Rumple knew what it was like to be afraid, and if he hadn’t worked hard at being nothing like his father, it could have very well been him inside that cage.  Nearby was a bucket of fresh water, and he saw nothing wrong in giving the poor man a drink.  Rumple broke the thin layer of ice that had frozen over the top with the drinking ladle and then handed it to the man through the bars.

“Here, drink up.”  Then he frowned.  “But that’s all you’re getting.”  He added, if he were too sympathetic the others might think he was soft.

“You’re kind.”  The prisoner rasped before taking a deep drink.  The man moaned as if Rumple had handed him the finest wine instead of simple water and he savoured every drop.  “Let me repay you.”  He said once he was done.

“How?”  Rumple asked warily, taking the ladle from the man and twisting it in his hands.

“A warning.”  The man said gravely.  “I served the Duke,”  He told him.  “And I know his plans for the morrow.”

Rumple scoffed.  “Everyone knows the Duke’s plans for tomorrow, it’s not a secret.”

“Ah, yes, mostly, but what you don’t know, young spinner, is that Duke plans to send your whole troop to their deaths.”  He replied.

“Y-you’re lying, why would the Duke do that?”  Rumple stuttered as his eyes widened.

“I’m not, everything I say is true.”  The man said calmly.  “The Duke is sending you all to a trap the ogres have set, while you die a bloody death his knights will march in from behind and steal the gold said to be in the caves they’re guarding.”

Rumple took a halting step back, his mind filled with horrified denial.  It couldn’t be true, what kind of man would do such a thing to his own men?  And all just for gold?  No, this man had to be a liar.  He was trying to make Rumple panic and run as well.

“You’re lying.”  Rumple repeated.  “You _have_ to be.”  He whispered.

Belle’s shining eyes flashed in his mind, her voice begging him to return echoing in his ears.  If he died Milah would get his pension, not Belle.  Even if she came forward and told everyone he was the father of their child, no one would believe her.  It would be easy to claim a war hero as the father of a bastard, especially if that child might be owed some of the soldier’s pension.  Panic began to swell within him as the picture he’d painted for himself earlier began to collapse.  Belle would have no way to provide for herself and their baby; his child would grow up like he had, alone without a father.  He couldn’t let that happen, he would do anything to keep his child from suffering that fate.

“I’m not.”  The man said.  “But don’t look so fearful,”  He continued.  “I know something that was no help to me, but will be able to help you.”

The man’s words were like a rope thrown to a drowning man and he grabbed onto it with both hands.

“Tell me, what can I do?”  Rumple demanded.  Desperation came off of him in waves as he grabbing the bars of the man’s cage and his heart raced in his chest.

“You see, there is a dagger…”  The man began with a hidden smile.


End file.
